Never Again
by Galantria
Summary: Angelina on Fred's death. Contains considerable angst for our dear redhead, but with a somewhat happy ending. I just couldn't leave poor Angie without some sort of closure, could I? Written for all the depressed Fred lovers.


Never Again

I had never thought hard about death. After all I was Angelina Johnson, the tough athletic girl. I could handle anything and death seemed like a distant far off idea, not something nessled up beside me so close that I felt clostrophobic. But thats how I felt now, surrounded and crushed like an ant by the immense nothingness in Fred's body.

His eyes were blank and his limbs were limp, but stiff. Already weighed down by the Fred's stationary, uncirculating blood. His older brother cried over him and stared. The battle was temporarily haulted by Voldemort's message and now I was haulted also. Frozen and empty.

My head felt heavy and I closed my eyes. Fred could not, would not dissapear so suddenly. And leave me a world behind. Perhaps if I pried back the corners of the universe I would find him, hunched over and lost, but still smiling and joking. And he would stand slowly and hold me close. A lover's hold. And whisper to me that it would all be alright. That life would go on. . .

Because he had always done that. When we lost game after game and my parents divorced. When Alica hated me because of a stupid fight and I endured many a cold glare from my best friend. When my little sister ran away from home. Ever since the Yule Ball we had 'gone out' in the blunt and ineloquent words of Hogwarts students and he had looked after me. But never again. Because the shell that had been Fred lay on the stone floor of the Great Hall.

I walked towards the body and knelt next to George who rocked back and forth softly. There was the red hair that ruffled in the breeze. And the same honest blue eyes. And even the cocky smile. But this wasn't my Fred. This was alien, not the arm that I had clung to as we twirled while the band played. The absense was the hand that streamed throught the red hair. And the warmth of the blue eyes. And even the sound of his laughter that accompanied the cocky grin.

Finally all the tears cascaded out. A waterfall awaiting the final signal that Fred was gone. And not coming back.

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The following week there was a funeral. And I joined the lose ring of darkly clothed bodies that surrounded Fred's open coffin. My Fred's open coffin.

He lay in the oak box dressed in black robes with a blue tee underneeth and his blank staring eyes were tucked under the lids. His arms were slightly relaxed and tilted. And he looks so like a handsome teen who had happened to fall asleep in the oak box. A live handsome teen. With blood the flowed and lungs that lifted his chest gently and rythmically. But if I had taken his wrist into my hands there would be no steady beat of blood and if I looked hard enough I would detect no slight rise and fall of his chest.

And then the priest, whose voice rose and fell like wave crashing on rocks as Fred and I walked by the beach last summer, fell slient and Mr. Weasly and George cried as they closed the coffin.

I wanted to scream. They couldn't nail down the lid over Fred! Cutting him off eternally from the sun. They just couldn't. And then procede to plant him down low in the Earth where only worms dwelled. Worms that didn't know that Fred's flesh was young and firm with none of the loose fleshyness of the elderly. A sudden image flashed before me of Fred's body. Crumpled and worm-infested. In utter darkness.

I quenched a scream of complete helplessness and turnned away as Fred was lowered down. I caught only one last glimpse of the box carrying my Fred down, and away from me.

Later I set my chin slightly and took shallow and even breaths. In and out. I was steal Angelina. Who could handle anything. Even being away from the only person who could strip away my coolness and armor and see my soft, fragile core. I could handle that, too. But for the rest of my life, until I join Fred in my own box inside the cold Earth, I will remember the sound of wind flowing through flaming red hair. And the glow of blue eyes in the faint moonlight. And the slight resurance in the cocky grin.

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**A/N I would first like to inform everyone that this was NOT meant to disturb and/or depress you. That was definately not my goal and I apologise if this did occur. It was meant to be semi-therepudic and to help myself come to terms with the death of my favorite fictional character. MISS YOU FRED!!!**

**disclaimer: not mine **

**Bad grammar, I know. sorry it was supposed to show her grief and if I failed miserably oh well. **

**Reviews would be nice. (hint hint wink wink)**

**ONCE AGAIN THIS IS NOT TO DEPRESS YOU!!!!!**


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